Black Licorice
by TheDelRay
Summary: What if Jem was never sick, and Will wasnt cursed? Who would Tessa pick if they each had a fair chance? Read and find out just why Tessa thinks of will as a sickening sweet candy. But of course, Magnus is always there to mix everything up!
1. The Letter

Black Licorice

Chapter One

I had received the tattered envelope a week ago. It read:

Dearest Tessa,

As my best friend it is my duty to help you at a time like this. I am so sorry for your loss Nathan and Aunt Harriet were good people. I'm just so glad you are alright. Tess, you are welcome to stay with me in London for however long you want. The institute has plenty of space, an kind enough company. I am sure everyone will adore you. Please consider,

Jessamine

I folded away the paper into my bag, and stepped onto the sturdy deck of a boat. Today was the day, i thought, that my life is going to change.


	2. The Institute

Jessamine was overly ecstatic when she came to pick Tessa up. Jessamine was showered in baby pink, and with big bouncing curls there was no shadow of a doubt that this was the girl she used to play doll house with.

"Tessa," Jessamine screamed. "How are you?" She soon composed herself and restated with a simple, "How do you do?" She looked so utterly distraught, for she stayed up into the long hours of the night awaiting her friend's arrival.

"I'm okay Jess, you don't know how grateful I am to have you as a friend, you offer for me to move in with you in a beautiful place that I could only have ever dreamed of traveling to and I could never—" She was cut off with a sudden sigh from her doe eyed friend.

"I could take my offer back" Jessamine laughed. Tessa just stood there with a sour face; as if she took a whiff of a harsh French perfume.

"That was not funny," Tessa pouted. "Can we just go now? I'm looking forward to meeting everyone."

"Very well then, into the carriage." And with a final huff and tuck of the many skirts Jessamine hauled, the carriage door was closed.

I don't remember seeing a place so drab, but yet so full of life Tessa noticed. The hustle and bustle of the cold London ports reminded her of New York, and of old times. But now here, she had no clue what she would encounter, the only comfort she had was from the friendly girl beside her and the reassuring thud of a clockwork angel. The angel was all clogs and bolts, wound around her slender, pale neck, in a trail of brass and gold chain. It fell just below the collar of her dress. Just enough to be hidden and enough to be there like a second heart. Sweet and lulling: My sweet, my sweet, two doves sigh in the window—the comforting voice of her aunt drifted through her head, reminding her of all the innocence wrapped up in childhood. But alas, she was being gently woken by Jessamine.

"We're here," Jessamine whispered. "Up now, get out of the carriage." She looked so determined to get Tessa inside that she nearly began dragging her there. But Tessa was in awe. The Institute was beautiful. It was made entirely of cold grayed marble, with jutting towers upon the forever roof. Moss slicked bricks acted as the surrounding gates, and beyond those gates was the most amazing thing. Two of the biggest doors ever seemed to loom over me Tessa thought. The wood was gorgeous and rich; like a cup of thoroughly steeped tea. One couldn't distinguish the type of wood, for the coloring was too unique. It was the highlight of the building. Jessamine had to snap her out of her reverie.

"Tessa, are you done it's beginning to rain, and I do believe we are getting wet as we speak." She was always the one to state the obvious.

"Oh of course, wouldn't want to catch a cold" Tessa said half joking. The girls began walking up a maze of stairs. "But I don't understand why you aren't moved by all this beauty. Don't you ever just find yourself marveling at the architectural brilliancy?" Tessa asked dumbfounded by her friend's lack of interest.

"Well, after awhile a building just becomes a building. Nothing more, and nothing less. It's like some sort of buoy to one's life, never ceasing to exist if you look in the right place."

"I guess I never thought of it that way." Tessa stated. And after the girls had their insightful talk, they walked into something neither of them would have ever liked to witness. Let's just say that it involved a very inebriated William Herondale.


	3. infirmary

**Authors note: Hey to whoever is reading! In the beginning of this story I wanted the view point to be all seeing. But now that I've started, I think that I will switch it up sometimes to characters views. I hope by doing this it will make things more interesting. And in this chapter I do believe exciting things will happen. Magnus Bane anyone? So please read and review! (And let me know if this is confusing or not) -Aria**

Jessamine had just led Tessa to her room, moreover a pastel nightmare, but it was still gorgeous and very much Jessamine. She was watching Jess brush her satiny locks when they heard a commotion down the hall. They decided to peek and couldn't believe what they witnessed…

"Will, you look wretched! What happened? Are you drunk—"Jem wrinkled his nose. "You are aren't you? That would explain the smell…" he trailed off.

"My dear Jem, I do believe that I am perfectly fine. And this is my natural scent." He managed to say this in between wiping his forehead of sweat. He started digging his nails into his palm, releasing them to show blood. And then something shocking happened. He just fell to the ground with a thump. All muscle and toned limbs in a big cold heap, shallow breathing only faintly heard. Jessamine's eyes were as big as saucers, so Tessa assumed this wasn't a normal thing that happened.

"What should we do?" she asked Jem whose face looked pale as milk.

"Get Magnus, get Magnus now!" She scurried off to find help. All the while Tessa couldn't help but stare at the two men in front of her. _Jem was a slender young man, but still well muscled. He wasn't as big as Will but he had a sort of beauty to him. While Will was all angles and sinewy muscle, Jem was skinnier and had a lovely slant to his light brown eyes. The only commonality between the two was dark black hair. Except Wills hair seemed to be the exact shade of black licorice I obsereved I couldn't help myself but stare at the two of them. Both were so different, but yet they both held some sort of fluid grace. I hoped that everything would be alright, because so far my arrival hasn't been the greatest_ Tessa thought. She decided to go back into Jessamine's room until everything cleared up.

**Magnus' point of view**

My attire was unusually drab today to match the usual drab London night. Coming to the Institute always brought excitement into my life. And I am most likely sure that I received a fire letter of "utmost importance" because the dashing William Herondale caught something on fire, again. For a boy with such an angelic face he could really cause trouble. I walked into the Institute and was led to the infirmary by Charlotte, even though I've been to the infirmary enough times to be considered the personal doctor.

"What seems to be the problem? Where was he before he came back from the Institute?"

"He was drinking and he came back from the Devils Tavern." Jem huffed and rubbed his brown eyes. "Do you think he has alcohol poisoning?"

"Well, from the looks of it I would say yes, but it seems to be something else too." I reached out and touched Will. He was burning up almost as if he was being consumed by fire… "Of course! He was poisoned with a mixture of demon liquors. It was probably that fairy waitress; she's had the eyes for will the first time he set foot in there. Too bad he didn't see it coming."

"Is he going to be alright?"

"Maybe, he is going to need a while to recover. And he is going to have to drink a series of unpleasant potions." I rubbed my chin thoughtfully. "I do believe that his condition is quite serious; maybe it will teach him a lesson. But I doubt it." "Very well then, I might as well begin. Jem you are going to have to leave. He wouldn't want you to see him in this condition, I'm sure that if—I mean when he recovers, his ego will take time to heal over." I let out a sad dry laugh.

"I suppose. Take good care of him Magnus." And with that the brown eyed boy left. I stood there sullen, feeling terrible that I gave him so much hope about his friend. I've always been an idealist.


End file.
